


Mistletoe

by ThunderCant



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Biting, Chris is STARS captain who betrayed the team, Cunnilingus, Embarrassing Underwear, M/M, Roleswap, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, ageswap, and also he is BOW, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22039798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderCant/pseuds/ThunderCant
Summary: Albert just wants to go home, sleep, and not deal with the world for a few hours. Sadly, his pain in the ass ex-captain decides to show up with an evening all planned out.
Relationships: Chris Redfield/Albert Wesker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sabubu91](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sabubu91/gifts).



> Roleswaps are fun, this one is nonsense, enjoy some evil and irritating chris who wants to fuck his tiny boyfriend into the mattress forever

Albert couldn’t help rubbing his temples when he came home and saw a warm, dim glow peeking out under the curtains. After a day of paperwork, a security breach and then spending an extra few hours in the medical bay making sure his ribs weren’t shattered, the last thing he needed was a certain someone in his house. If he believed in a god he might have tried praying to them. 

He doubted a god would be able to get rid of his little problem, anyway. With a sigh he pushed the door open, wincing as he shrugged off his coat and heading right for his bedroom. He ignored the living room completely. First things first, he was getting out of his damn office clothes.

He barely managed to shuck off his jacket when Chris descended on him. Strong arms tight around his middle, head heavy on his shoulder, beard tickling when he kissed his cheek. His heart stopped.

“Hi Albert,” Chris murmured, “you’re home late.”

Albert sighed. 

“Yes, hello, what are you doing in my house?” He tried to keep his breathing steady, squirming a bit. The grip got tighter and he stopped, fear starting to creep up in his belly, “Chris.” 

“Just stopped by to give you your present. Maybe something else, too.” He flushed at the thought. Something else...much as he hated to admit it,  _ something else _ was almost always enjoyable. It drained the tension out of him. Just the shame that filled him afterwards…

No, no, he couldn’t think about that. Chris was a criminal and a traitor. Any contact was a bad decision. 

He didn’t stop those big hands starting to fiddle with his hem, though. “You feel tense.”

“No shit.”

“Don’t be rude, Albert. I’m not here to have a fight with you. It’s the season of goodwill, isn’t it?” He paused. Albert felt the grin that crept onto his face, rough beard pressing into him once more, “why don’t I walk you through it?” 

His hands slid under Albert’s shirt, warm on his tense muscles, kneading into them. He winced as Chris caught a bruise. Chris didn’t comment on it, but the pressure let up and soothed over the sore spot. “First,” he said, voice low, “gonna get you out of this uncomfortable stuff. Flattering as it is on you, I like it better when it’s on the floor.” 

“Bit soon for that-”

“Shh. I’ll peel all of this off you and get you dressed up better. Soft shirt, soft slacks...Might give you a wipe-down first though. Make sure you’re comfortable as can be for dinner. Besides,” he chuckled, “I’ve seen you eat fondue before.”

Albert blushed. 

“Don’t worry, it’s cute. You look like you’re having fun.” Chris kissed him again, “Then after dinner, I’ll carry you upstairs, while you’re full and sleepy. Strip you down so I can feel you all over. Kiss every bruise and scar, leave love bites up your throat. If you let me, I’ll finger you too.” He dragged one of his hands up Albert’s stomach, fingers resting on his lower lip, “Finger you until you’re begging for me to fuck you. And you know what’ll happen when you do, when you let me slide inside you and feel your cunt spread for my cock?”

Numbly, he shook his head. His underwear was already wet. 

“I’m going to kiss you, Albert. Kiss you on the lips, slow and sweet, so I can feel you fall apart. Swallow every moan you make. Kiss you til you’re breathless. The only thing you’re gonna be able to say is my name, baby.” 

He swallowed. Shivered. The barriers he put up were starting to melt like frost in the sun. Albert tried to summon up the last of his defences, to struggle and push him away. Damn him. Damn that  _ purr. _

“And if I say no?”

Chris smirked, tilting his head, “then you can stay here, in your house, all alone. I’ll be gone like a bad dream, until next time.”

Next time. Who knew what next time would involve. Usually their meetings were adrenaline driven, quickies behind some crates, being eaten alive by his favourite monster while he tried to pretend he hated it. God, and Chris, if he was offended then…

Albert shook his head. No. He wasn’t going to think about that. He was stronger than some petty fears. Chris loosened his grip and settled for kissing his shoulder.

“This,” said Albert, trying to push down his shivers, “better be some  _ incredible _ fondue.”

Chris laughed and turned his head towards him. Soft and dusty blue met Chris’ glimmering bronze. 

“Now  _ that _ is rude.”

  
  


The fondue was, to Albert’s annoyance, absolutely delicious. There had to be some sort of rule against maniacs being perfect partners when they weren’t too busy murdering people, honestly. He sucked the last of the melted cheese off his fingers and sighed, all but collapsing in his seat, stomach protesting. He shushed it with a few pats. 

“Good?”

“God. Yeah, yeah it was.” 

Chris smiled. He stood up and gathered Albert into his arms, the usual squawk dampened under a few layers of comfortable fullness. He squirmed for a couple of seconds before his body demanded he go slack, curling into the carry, hiding his smile in Chris’ chest. Albert could hear his heartbeat, steady and strong. Chris carried him to his room, just like he promised, and set him on top of the bed, straddling his hips. Albert’s eyes cracked open and he started up at Chris’ face, illuminated by nothing more than a few candles. His eyes glowed, dimly. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Chris murmured, dipping his head down to kiss his jaw, “god, you’re gorgeous.” His hands found their way to the hem of Albert’s shirt, fussing with it, pushing it up until Chris exposed the flat expanse of his belly. He smiled and began to move, pressing a final kiss to his jaw before passing over the crumpled fabric. Chris followed his hands down, anywhere that had the rough skin pass over it got kisses, some just a small peck, others longer, sucking dark marks into his flesh. Albert sighed at the feeling, occasionally arching up when Chris hit a particularly sensitive spot. His fingers curled when Chris breathed over a nipple. He felt the breathy laugh, and soon that heat was at his hips, gently nipping into his bones. Albert whined and rolled his hips.

“Why do you always have to tease?” 

“Aww, sweetheart,” Chris cooed, looking up from the trail of bites he’d left, “are you getting impatient again?” 

“I’m just saying,” Albert growled, rolling his hips again, earning another nip, “that if you made me wait this long for dinner I’d never speak to you again.” 

Chris tutted and pulled away entirely. The only contact Wesker had now was Chris’ ass, the full weight of it on his hips. “You greedy thing,” Chris sighed. Then he grinned, grabbed Albert’s shirt, and pushed it past his arms. It was a clear trap, a message-  _ stop moving _ . 

Albert looked him dead in the eye and arched his back. Chris dived. Suddenly he had every inch of those muscles on him, weighing him down, arms pinning him against his pillow. Chris’ teeth scraped his neck, canines dangerously hard against his soft skin, biting into the thin flesh. Albert moaned, yelping when the sharpness made to pierce him. God, he was going to have a fun time explaining  _ this _ …

His thoughts left him; Chris moved his hands again. Keeping his arms down with just one huge hand, he travelled down to Albert’s chest, fumbling and fussing with the pink pebbles there. His teeth vanished. For a moment, it was soft. Chris still sucking and licking at the bruise he’d worried into Albert’s throat, thick fingers brushing and squeezing in time with his mouth. He moaned, body lax, melting into the mattress under the attention.

Then Chris bit down. Albert shrieked, electricity shooting through him, and he spasmed helplessly, trying to squirm away from the pain. Chris had pinched his nipple too, and no matter what way he moved, he edged towards the hurt. 

“Chris,” he gasped, “ _ Chris! _ ”

In an instant, it stopped, and he had an apologetic tongue soothing over the bite. He panted. His body trembled. Chris was murmuring nonsense into his neck, kissing his jaw. Albert worked it a little, before he managed to croak out, “better not...get blood on my bed.”

Chris chuckled at him, and licked the mark. He shuddered as he kept squeezing and feeling over his chest, occasionally running his hand down his ribs when he started to fuss. The air felt cold on his body, hot and sweaty.

He sighed when he finally pulled away, sitting up and staring down fondly. Albert didn’t think he’d ever get used to that. Chris’ gleaming eyes staring at him like he was the whole world, a priceless treasure that he’d finally managed to claim. It made unease bubble up in his chest, and he had to tear his gaze away. It wasn’t the time for that. Chris stopped his thoughts pretty quick though, tugging his shirt the rest of the way off and starting to fiddle with his pants. He whined as the cold air hit his boxers, already wet and wanting.

Chris paused. He paused for a long time. Albert glared at him.

“Will you just-”   
  
“Nice undies,” Chris said, smile creeping onto his face as he thumbed over the pine-green fabric, stretching out the cheery, “Kiss me under the mistletoe” across his crotch. Albert threw his hands over his face. Chris chortled, reaching up to gently prise his hands away, kissing his red cheeks. “Aww, don’t worry, sweetheart. They’re cute.” He slid his thumb under the waistband, with its admissions of “pucker up!” in cursive red. “Who bought you these? Or did you get them yourself?” The waistband snapped against his skin and Albert yelped.

“Secret Santa,” he finally said, “got it this year.”

“You work with some perverts, Albert,” Chris hummed, “Should I be jealous?”

“No!

“You sure? I’d hate to think that anyone was bothering you-”

“No one’s bothering me! It’s just a dumb gift.” He looked him dead in the eye, pouting a little, trying to make himself look as innocent as possible, “it’s fine. I wasn’t the only person to get something stupid. You don’t,” he swallowed, “need to be jealous.” 

Tension filled the air and Chris stared at him, unblinking. His mind rushed as he tried to think about what would settle him, what would make Chris stop spiralling into that dangerous, wild headspace where he’d snatch him away and keep him locked up. He felt the panic, boiling inside him, desperate to be set free, to get Chris off, to-

Wait. 

Albert grasped for a smile and shifted a leg so it was draped over Chris’ shoulders. He licked his lips, one shaking arm coming to stroke his face. “Besides,” he said, “You’re the one who actually gets to see me  _ wearing _ them.” He dropped his voice low, rubbing his back with his foot. “You should kiss me under the mistletoe.”

Chris blinked. It was like he snapped out of one daze and straight into another one, eating Albert’s long, lithe body with his eyes alone. Chris lifted his other leg onto his shoulders, peeling his underwear away until it was hanging on his ankle.

He was never going to get tired of this sight; Chris’ eyes illuminating the nest of curly hair between his legs, casting gold on his lean thighs, staring up at him with such intensity. Chris’ hands slid over his hips, thumbing over the jutting bones. Albert let himself relax, crossing his legs behind Chris’ head to encourage him closer. “Come on,” he murmured, “kiss it.” 

The power was an illusion and nothing more, but it was sweet beyond belief. Chris closed his eyes, nosing into the wet folds. He sighed against it, moulding his lips to kiss along his vulva, parting his lips and tilting his head, this way and that, to get the best angle. His tongue was warm and wet as he licked a slow stripe between the kisses, from the soft ones just above his clit to the filthy sucks around his hole, like he was trying to drink Albert’s juices from the source. Chris wrinkled his nose when Albert’s hair tickled his wet nose. He couldn’t hold back a giggle.

“Sorry,” he sighed, “you were pulling a funny face.”

“Get you pulling some faces,” Chris said, before he slipped back in. Albert yelped as he felt the tongue slither inside him, far further than a normal humans could, and clenched down. Chris’ laugh rumbled inside him, tongue leisurely exploring his vagina and humming. He felt the pointed tip feeling all around his cervix, the undulations of the body pressing into his sensitive spots, all while Chris closed his mouth around his mound and sucked. Albert hissed, hands flying to Chris’ hair and forcing him further down, legs tightening around Chris’ head. He just rumbled more, pushing pleasure and pressure deep inside him, like snakes rubbing against each other inside. God, Chris’ tongue alone was big enough to make him feel like that was his only reality; that Chris had split his tongue apart and all the warmth around his pussy was just overwhelming movement and feeling, bumping into his most sensitive parts. But god, all of it was Chris, all of it. 

It just wasn’t enough. Albert whined when he pulled away, his face slick and wet. Chris licked his lips, murmuring, “delicious,” just loud enough for Albert to hear. He felt his legs being put down, and the bed creaked as Chris stepped off.

Before he could think, he was already reaching out. Chris just smiled and pushed him back down, kindly, kissing his forehead. 

“Just a little longer,” he said, blessing him with another kiss. He shucked off his own pants and left them in a heap. Albert almost sighed when he came back, the warmth bleeding into his sweaty skin. He let himself be moved, folded over until he had nothing but Chris in his eyes. He felt his cock, resting between his folds, getting slicked up as Chris rolled his hips. 

“You’re gonna have all this inside you, pretty boy. Gonna fill you up so good.” He sighed and rocked his hips, head of his cock nudging Albert’s slick cunt, “ready babe?”

“Always,” he said, and Chris’ prick pushed inside. Slow as he liked, at first, and Albert couldn’t help but bite his lip. He wasn’t just big, he was wide, and it burned beautifully when his cunt stretched to let it in, protesting right until it was firm inside him, all but kissing his cervix and filling out all the spaces like it was meant to be there. Made for each other, that was what Chris would say. 

“Feels good,” he whispered, breath catching, “fuck, Chris…”

“In a second, babe,” Chris whispered back, dipping his head so that they were so close he felt Chris’ breath tickle his face, “one second. You’re so hot inside. God, Wish you could feel yourself…” He gasped as Albert clenched, breathing heavy into his ear. Albert lifted his trembling hands around Chris’ neck, pulling him in. “Good. You’re so good. You’re so beautiful.”

“I’m- I want-”

“I know, babe, I know, you’re just- fuck, let me. Give me a second.” His eyes opened again, and Albert could see every fleck in them, the coppery glints and bronze so deep it was almost black. Chris shifted his hips and his breath caught in his throat, gritting his teeth, clamping down hard. Chris was going to have bruises on his back, scratches where Albert got desperate and tried to hurry him. 

“Wish I could see you like this forever,” Chris said, breathlessly, holding him down so his hands could cup Albert’s face. “Don’t hold back.” 

He moved. Albert scrambled to push his hips to meet him, and found he couldn’t. He was pinned by Chris’ body, Chris’ scent surrounding him, his heat, nothing but the two of them melting together. He groaned as Chris moved, slowly rocking his hips, to the point where even Chris was gritting his teeth. 

“I can take it,” he said, “god, I can take it, just, Chris,  _ please _ …”

It was all the encouragement he needed. He growled and something inside Chris broke, speeding up like water overpowering a dam, barely held back once his lust took hold. He mouthed hotly at Albert’s neck, biting and sucking and licking while his cock scraped out every part of Albert that could feel shame. His trepidation, the worry he felt, and anything about  _ blood _ vanished into the ether as Chris slammed into him, balls slapping his thighs, red drooling down his throat. 

“More,” he sobbed, clawing at Chris’ back, “give me  _ more _ you bastard, god, Chris!”

He obeyed. God, did he obey. Albert screamed when he felt a massive, warm thumb polishing his clit, hefty cock impaling him and keeping him pinned down as Chris pushed all his feelings right into his cunt. His face was wet with tears, neck red with blood, hands full of skin he’d peeled from scratching cuts into Chris’ skin. He felt like a sex toy, a real doll for Chris to rut into, barking out all the commands he knew the man wanted him to say- harder, faster, mark me up, fuck me, fill me up. He was going to get questions and he didn’t care, everything inside him that screamed about bad ideas had been suffocated by Chris’ presence. He pushed the anxiety out and filled up the spaces he left with pleasure. 

He growled into Albert’s throat, teeth sharp and hungry. He could barely make it out past his own screaming. He was just agreeing, begging, as shameless as a cat in heat while Chris ate him alive. 

Albert clenched around him, once, twice, and came so hard he convulsed on the bed. The aches, the sharp sting, the overwhelming burn in his cunt...All the sensations crashed together in a white-hot orgasm, an explosion with him at the epicentre, erupting all around Chris. He screamed out all his lust, drawing blood, tense and tight while Chris just kept going, pounding into him shamelessly, forcing his clit to attention still. 

Once. Twice. On the third thrust he felt warmth inside him, hot and heavy, and his cunt protesting as something started to spread it out. Chris didn’t speak as he came, only roared. He was still mouthing at Albert’s neck when he started to gain some of his faculties back, at the cost of everything else. 

He sobbed, gently, and fell back. The world spun like a child’s toy and he was only held down by Chris’ hot, wet weight. Still inside him. Still keeping him full and warm. When he pulled his soaking hand up to Albert’s lips, he accepted it without complaint, quietly sucking his salty juices from it. 

Christ, he was tired. He couldn’t imagine Chris wasn’t. He had all but fallen on top of Albert, close enough to kiss.

Albert tapped his face, even though he was half-way to dreamland. 

“Huh..?”

“Promised me kisses,” he sniffed, “kiss me.”

Chris’ face softened. He shifted until they were on their side, still balls deep, moulding his wet, sweet lips to Albert’s. It was such a gentle touch, rough as they were. He ached all over, but it didn’t matter, as long as he had the softness he wanted now. Chris soothed over his bruised arms and kissed his neck like an apology, always returning to his lips for more. 

Albert’s sniffles died away. Chris’ voice returned, rough and hoarse, but still with a smile. 

“Feel up to a bath yet?”

“Hmm…” Albert thought. “I thought you were giving me a bath before…” he sniffed, arrogance returning to clad him like armour, “and there wasn’t any fingering.”

Chris blinked at him, until Albert chuckled and patted his face. “I’m joking. That was...That was wonderful.” He let his eyes shut and enjoyed the feeling of Chris touching his face, thumbing over his cheekbones. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, treasure. Come on, up you come.”

Albert whined a little as Chris heaved him up, wrapping his legs around his waist and dropping his head over one shoulder. The walk made Chris’ cock bounce inside him. 

“Don’t fuss. You get mad in the morning if I don’t clean you up.”

“Apartment will get mad,” he grumbled, “no cum in the shower drain.” 

Chris laughed. But he acquiesced to the request, and if Albert spent the night warming his cock to avoid upsetting his landlord, then that was no one’s business but his own.

(Chris helped him clean it up anyway. That tongue was so useful.) 


End file.
